Cross the Plane
by Sithwitch 13
Summary: Stargate SG1, Harry Potter, AU, WIP. Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Hermione Granger joins the Stargate program at the request of the Ministry of Magic. Ch. 4: The plot thickens, Harry and the Aurors meet SG-1, and nobody is happy.
1. Chapter 1

_I'll be posting two chapters a week until the end of the story. Thanks to Shadowriver for beta-ing and my fiance for telling me where the weaknesses in the plot were._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Stargate franchise and am not making a profit off of this, nor am I planning to._

**Chapter 1**

_Ministry of Magic  
__London, England  
__October, 2003_

Hermione Granger surveyed her office one last time before she decided that she could safely call it a day and return home. She straightened a plaque on her wall, the one naming her an honorary member of the "Non-humans Are People Too" club at Hogwarts three years previously, and beamed. _There._ She picked up her briefcase, stuffed with the latest reports, and turned off the lamp. She was about to close the door, but lingered over the sign on her door that read "DEPARTMENT OF WIZARD COOPERATION WITH MAGICAL BEINGS: Hermione Granger, Head Liaison."

Despite working here for five years, she was still astonished that she had lobbied successfully for that split from the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. She was even more disbelieving that the Ministry had put her, a very young Muggle-born witch virtually fresh out of Hogwarts, in charge of the whole thing.

_Granted, after the war..._ She had made a name for herself as one of Harry Potter's trusted companions back then. She had worked even harder after to make sure that her name wouldn't just be remembered as Harry Potter's friend.

"Hermione?"  
She whirled around, wand at the ready, and blushed furiously when she realized that she had been about to cast an _Expelliarmus_ at Percy Weasley. "Sorry. Hello, Percy."

"Old habits die hard, I know." He understood. Ron had been telling her how just last week, he had done the same when Percy approached him as he visited Hermione at work. He looked over her shoulder at the dark office. "Would I be correct in assuming that your subordinates have gone home for the night?"

"The last one left an hour ago. Why?"

"I have something of the utmost importance and secrecy to tell you." He motioned for her to step back into her office and close the door. She complied, lighting the lamp again. He waited until the door was closed and cast a warding spell over the room.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked, amused.

"Very." His face was serious. A few years ago, after the debacle wherein he had disowned his entire family, she wouldn't have been so inclined to listen to him, despite always getting along rather well before that. Since the war, though... well, he hadn't quite mended the relationships with his brothers and sister, but he had thrown himself into his work with a sincere dedication to make up for things that had been overlooked in the years preceding Voldemort's public return. She respected that.

"So what's this all about?"

He took a deep breath. "It's come to the attention of the British Muggle government, and therefore ours, that there's a program in America that we would like to be a part of. The Muggles will be forming a four-member team to participate in this program, and the Ministry of Magic would like one member to be a representative of the Wizarding World. You were chosen."

She blinked. "I'm honored. What program?"

"Apparently, for the past six and a half years, the Americans and Russians have been regularly sending people to other planets through something called a 'Stargate'." The expression on Percy's face hinted that he found this to be an outlandish concept. "You were chosen due to your work with cooperation between non-human beings."

Hermione was dumbstruck. "You mean they've discovered aliens?"

"I suppose," he said, sounding stressed. "In any case, you'll be leaving for Colorado in a week. The Ministry would appreciate it if you would refrain from making this public knowledge."

"Wait! Who'll be taking over the department? What should I say when people ask me while I'm leaving?"

"The decision for your successor will be left up to you, though the Ministry will retain final approval power. As for an explanation, it's been decided that you will be taking an extended trip to America as a Ministry-sponsored research project on the living conditions of non-human Magical beings there."

Hermione nodded, simultaneously annoyed and giddy. On the one hand, she wished she had been given a choice in the matter. On the other, she knew that she would jump at the chance, anyway. "Am I to keep my status as a witch quiet?"

"Due to the circumstances and level of security on this project, it has been decided that the rest of your team and Stargate Command will be filled in with certain knowledge of the Wizarding world."

She nodded. "That'll make things much easier for me."

"Good. I'll let the Minister know that you've been informed. In the meantime, I suggest you pack." He dropped the room's wards and shook her hand. "Glad to have your cooperation."

She grinned widely. "How could I resist a challenge like this? Have a good night, Percy."

He smiled faintly at her. "You too."

* * *

Once she had Apparated back to her flat, she let her excitement out. Crookshanks, who was now visibly gray around his flat muzzle and somewhat arthritic, seemed to sense her gleeful mood, winding around her legs and purring. Of course, this led to her almost burning herself badly as she tried to make her dinner, but it was easily forgiven.

A knock at her door stopped her short. "Hello?" she called, checking through the peephole and making sure her wand was ready to hex whoever was there.

"It's me, Hermione. Let me in."

She groaned and tucked her wand back into her belt. _How could I have forgotten Ron was coming over for dinner tonight?_ "Sorry," she said, unlocking the door.

"For what?" he asked, hugging her. "The door was locked, is all. It's not like I'm going to go right out and '_Alohomora'_ your door."

"Not that, I forgot you were coming over and only made enough for one."

"Oh." He shrugged. "Easy enough to just go out for food, isn't it?"

"I suppose." She flicked her wand and the nearly-cooked dinner flew into a plastic container and into her refrigerator, which closed behind it.

"Great!" He paused to reach down and pet Crookshanks, who was still purring. "He's a bit active for his age, isn't he?"

"It's been a good evening," she replied, making sure that the cat was clear of the door before closing and locking it.

"Was an interesting day, I'll tell you that." Ron launched into a story about some of the latest threats that the Aurors had been taking care of, most notably a few straggling Death Eaters attempting to carry on after Voldemort's death.

She nodded as they walked to a small restaurant down the street, only half paying attention. Normally, she'd be hanging on every word for news about the last of the Death Eaters, but... well, soon she'd be working with beings from other planets. How could Death Eaters hold precedence over _that?_

Hermione gasped suddenly. She couldn't tell Ron about this, much as she wanted to. _How on Earth am I going to tell him that I'll be gone for who-knows-how long?_

Ron paused in the story. "Don't be so shocked. It was just some upstart kids trying to make themselves feel tough after all."

"No, it's not that." She steeled herself for his probable reaction. "I was approached by the Ministry today to go to America and do some research on non-human magical beings' living conditions there. They'll be funding it and everything, and it's a dream come true. But I have to leave in a week."

"Oh." He sounded surprised, but carefully neutral. "For how long?"

"I'm not really sure."

"How often can you visit?"  
"I'm not sure about that, either."

"Oh." She could see that he was a bit hurt and angry about it. "Only gave you a week's warning, did they?"

"Ron, it's the opportunity of a lifetime for me."

"What about me?"

She winced at the hurt tone in his voice, no longer hidden. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay. It's your life; you get to make your own decisions." He stuffed his hands in his pockets and didn't meet her eyes. "Let's just try and enjoy this week, huh?"

"Thanks, Ron." She held out a hand, and smiled with relief when he took it.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Stargate franchise and am not making a profit off of this, nor am I planning to._

**Chapter 2**

_Colorado Springs, Colorado  
__One week later_

Hermione sighed and closed the door to her new flat. _It would have been so much easier to just Apparate_, she thought ruefully. As it was, she and the other three members of the newly commissioned team SG-19 had been flown in on a plane, meaning that she had spent several hours crammed into an uncomfortable seat. Since she hadn't been able to sleep, she had tried to read and had been annoyed when she finished her reading material halfway through. She had spent the rest of the flight fielding questions from the rest of the team about the wizarding world. A woman named Dr. Jennifer Malcolm, who was only three years older than she was, was the most enthusiastic of them.

She liked her team members just fine, but answering all those questions had gotten annoying fairly quickly. She hoped that they—meaning Jennifer, since Major Thomas Blair and Lieutenant Wilson Fletcher hadn't been asking her nearly as many questions—would get used to her quickly.

So now, here she was in Colorado, wanting nothing more than to flop down on her bed and sleep. Except that her bed was currently two mattresses that had been delivered while she had still been at the airport and it would be easier to adjust to the time change if she didn't sleep until it was actually night. Crookshanks meowed unhappily in his carrier. Harry had offered to watch him while she was away, but she had decided that she'd feel better with a familiar face around, even if it was just a cat.

"Sorry, Crookshanks. One second." With a flick of her wand (which had been hidden in a carry-on bag during the flight) she opened the trunk that his litter box was in and set it up. Her new teammates had been fascinated by the old-fashioned looking trunk that she had brought to Heathrow. Not just because it looked so odd, but because she had assured them that she had been able to pack all of her belongings in such a relatively small space.

"We wizards and witches definitely have the advantage there," she told Crookshanks, who was now gratefully stretching his legs. Enchanted trunks were just another reason she was glad to be a witch.

She was in the middle of unpacking—magically, of course—when she heard a knock at the door. "One moment," she called, tucking her wand away. She peered out and saw an unfamiliar blonde woman standing outside. "May I help you?" she asked through the door.

"Hermione Granger?"

"Yes?"

The woman smiled and flashed an ID card at the peephole. "Major Samantha Carter, United States Air Force." Hermione's mind flashed back to some of the reports that she had been reading over the past week and she recognized the name as that of a member of SG-1. "I live about a street over and thought I'd take you and your teammates out to dinner."

"That would be nice." She opened the door. "Please, come in. I've been unpacking and I probably look a mess."

"Sure." Major Carter stepped through and looked around. "Wow. Didn't you guys just get into town two hours ago?"

"What? Oh, yes. Why?" Hermione splashed some water on her face and dried it off, wondering what the Major meant by that.

"It's just that it looks like you're almost done unpacking."

"Oh! Um Yes. Well—"

She was saved having to make up some sort of excuse by Major Carter nodding with a wide-eyed look of wonder on her face and saying, "I guess it helps to have magic, doesn't it?"

"They've told you, then?"

"Yeah. Can't say I really believe too much in magic, though."

Hermione, always glad for a chance to show off, took out her wand. "_Accio_ keys!" The keys, hung on a peg by the door, flew into her hand. She grinned at the surprised look she received. "I prefer doing wordless magic. It gives you an advantage if no one else knows what it is you're casting."

"Can I see that?" Major Carter asked, motioning at her wand. Hermione handed it over, somewhat pleased at the way that the older woman was looking at it like it was some sort of alien technology.

"It's vine wood with a dragon heartstring core."

"Dragon."

"Yes. They exist, you know." She tried sounding conversational. "A friend of mine works with them for a living."

Major Carter looked like she was struggling to find an answer when they heard a car horn honk. "That would be Dr. Malcolm. I picked her up before I came over here," she clarified.

"Oh goody." Major Carter gave her a questioning look as they headed for the door. "Jennifer's a very nice woman, but the constant questions about magic on the flight over got to be a bit much."

* * *

Dinner ended up being at a steak house twenty minutes away. "O'Malley's is closer, but... well, we're sorta banned from there. It's a long story." Major Carter—Sam, as she insisted on being called—had picked up another person on the way, a large imposing looking man who reminded Hermione more than a bit of Kingsley Shacklebolt without the earring and with a hat pulled low on his forehead. He introduced himself as Teal'c and she was absolutely giddy to realize that he was the Jaffa that she had read about in a report. She and Jennifer had peppered him with questions about his species and homeworld, which he answered patiently.

"I'm very sorry if we're bothering you, but I've never met a non-human who wasn't from Earth," she told him, remembering how annoyed she had been when Jennifer had done the same to her on the plane.

"And I've never met a non-human at all!" Jennifer said, almost bouncing with excitement.

Teal'c had smiled graciously and nodded. "No offense is taken."

At the steakhouse, they met up with an older-looking man in a leather jacket who introduced himself as Colonel Jack O'Neill. He had brought Major Blair and Lieutenant Fletcher, the latter of whom was yawning.

"I thought Daniel was coming."

"His leg was bothering him and he decided to stay home. Fourth guy in SG-1," Colonel O'Neill clarified to Hermione and the rest. "Had a bit of a bad time in Honduras recently."

The meal itself was nice and quiet. Any mention of aliens, other planets, or magic was avoided. Instead, they talked about sports (which Hermione stayed out of, only being familiar with Quidditch), movies (she was extremely amused to hear Teal'c praising some science fiction movies that she had watched with a cousin as a little girl), and very briefly, the current news stories of the week. All in all, it was a nice evening.

_Harry and Ron would like these people,_ she thought, suddenly feeling homesick.

* * *

On the ride home, discussion changed back to topics that weren't safe to discuss in public. "What exactly did you do back in London?" Sam asked.

"I worked in the Ministry of Magic as a department head. I was able to use my name and a friend's influence to get them to reclassify centaurs, werewolves, goblins, giants, vampires, and house elves as 'magical beings' instead of 'magical creatures' and was put in charge of interacting with them."

Jennifer, who had already heard this on the flight over, wasn't surprised. Teal'c simply nodded. Sam, who was familiar with creatures that she probably thought of as mythical, definitely seemed impressed. "Werewolves?" she asked.

"Yes. They're not the monsters that they're made out to be, you know. It's a disease that they don't have any control over. And since my department has started lobbying for them, more of them are able to take the Wolfsbane potion than ever and attacks are down almost seventy percent." Noting the confused looks of the other people, she clarified. "It's a potion that allows them to become just a harmless wolf on a full moon. It suppresses the urge to harm others and themselves."

"You appear to be very young to have such responsibility," Teal'c commented.

Hermione grinned proudly. "After all my friends and I have done for them, they couldn't just shut us up."

"That would be that Harry Potter kid you talked about?" asked Jennifer.

"Along with many others, yes. The Ministry felt like it owed us, and I saw the opportunity to enact change."

Teal'c nodded appreciatively. Sam looked curious. "What happened to give you so much influence over policy? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"There was a war," Hermione stated simply. It would take too long to tell the full story, and she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep her composure right now. She hoped they'd leave it at that.

They did. When Sam dropped Teal'c off at Cheyenne Mountain, they were discussing some previous mission, and when Hermione was dropped off, they were just silent.


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Stargate franchise and am not making a profit off of this, nor am I planning to._

**Chapter 3**

_Cheyenne Mountain, Colorado  
__One day later_

Hermione was annoyed when she arrived at the Stargate facility the next morning. Last night, she had wanted to send a message to Harry and Ron letting them know that she was doing fine and asking about them. Unfortunately, her apartment didn't have a fireplace and she didn't own an owl. She would have to wait until someone could drive her to Denver to either buy an owl or use a public one to send her letter to the east coast's International Mail office.

Her mood didn't last long, though. She and the rest of SG-19 were given a tour of the facility. When they finally got to the Gate Room and saw the Stargate, she was in awe. "That ring will take us to different worlds?" she breathed. "It looks so..." "Boring" wasn't the word, and neither was "simple." "Amazing."

They returned to the briefing room, where the facility's commander was waiting for them. "Good Morning. I'm General Hammond," he greeted them. They introduced themselves in turn. He shook each of their hands, pausing when he got to Hermione. She could tell that he was still skeptical.

She sighed and pulled out her wand. With a muttered incantation, she transfigured the coffee mug on the table into a small tortoise.

"Oh," said General Hammond.

"Yes." She flicked her wand and the tortoise turned back into a mug. General Hammond picked it up and inspected it before setting it back down. Next to Hermione, Jennifer was trying very hard to not grin, and Hermione flashed a smile back at her.

"I take it that you've all read the reports that you were provided," said Hammond, back to sounding businesslike. To his credit, he wasn't looking nearly as shocked or dumbstruck over the show of magic as Hermione would have expected. SG-19 nodded, so Hammond continued. "Good. Your first mission is scheduled for two days from now. You'll be accompanying SG teams 1 and 9 to check up on our allies on Hak'tyl."

"Jaffa receiving tretonin," Hermione said. Jennifer and Lieutenant Fletcher looked at her with incredulous expressions. She shrugged in response. She had always been good at recalling information that she had read previously.

"Yes, the mission will be to ensure that they're reacting favorably to the tretonin and seeing if there's anything else that we can do for them."

Major Blair raised an eyebrow. Hammond noticed. "You have something to say, Major?"

"If I'm remembering correctly from what information I was given, these 'Jaffa' are our enemies."

"Not all of them," Hermione answered before Hammond could, earning her a look that she remembered all too well from her days at Hogwarts when she would interrupt other students. "Sorry, General."

He held the look a moment longer to drive the point home, then continued. "We're doing our best to ally ourselves with a people who can potentially aid us from a very close association with the Goa'uld. In the past several years, a not-insignificant number of Jaffa have helped us out, so we're helping them in return. Whether it's sending what supplies we can or helping to free them from a dependency on Goa'uld symbiotes, I intend to continue to foster an attitude of camaraderie between our people."

Hermione resisted the urge to applause.

"Point taken, sir."

"Good. Major Blair and Lieutenant Fletcher, you'll be meeting with Major Ferretti in the armory. Dr. Malcolm and Ms. Granger, I'm assuming you're not trained on firearms?"

They both shook their heads "no."

"Ms. Granger, your file says that you were involved in a previous war. Would you mind telling me what weapons you used?"

"Hexes and jinxes, sir."

Hammond kept his face impassive. "Of course. I'm going to recommend that you be taught how to use a pistol, at least. You too, Dr. Malcolm. Two days of practice will not make you an expert, but I think you'd like to be able to defend yourself in the event that a threat occurs. I've taken the liberty of arranging for an airman to drive you to a firing range where an instructor will be waiting to teach you the basics."

Hermione resisted the urge to make a face, but nodded. She wasn't too keen on learning how to put holes in people, even if they were trying to kill her. A nice _Impedimentia_ jinx would be able to stop someone just as easily as a bullet, if not easier. But, she wouldn't be arguing with General Hammond over it. And there was no guarantee that her magical ability would even work on an alien planet.

* * *

So two days later, dressed in fatigues and with a pistol holstered next to her wand on her belt, she was waiting anxiously in the Gate Room. She smiled nervously at Jennifer, and then at Sam. "Does it hurt?" she asked Sam quietly.

"It's a weird feeling, but it's not painful," Sam assured her. _Like Apparition_, Hermione supposed. Well, she had gotten used to doing that quick enough, she would get used to this, too.

She watched with her mouth hanging open in amazement as the gate spun and locked in its coordinates, and gasped audibly as the event horizon formed.

"Wow," agreed Jennifer. Fletcher nodded mutely, and even normally impassive Blair looked impressed.

SG-19 followed SG-9 up the ramp, with SG-1 bringing up the rear. Hermione hesitated at the event horizon, then took a deep breath and stepped through.

When she stepped out of the gate on Hak'tyl, she admitted to herself that it was really _nothing_ like Apparition.

She and the others were greeted by some women armed with a staff like the one that Teal'c had shown up carrying. They greeted SG-1 warmly.

"Here's our medical team—" Jack gestured at SG-9, who were already getting down to business and asking people about their reactions to the tretonin—"and the new guys, SG-19. This is Ishta, the leader of this particular group of Jaffa."

Ishta, an imposing-looking woman with a tattoo on her forehead, nodded at both teams in turn, then turned to Teal'c and started up a conversation. Hermione grinned to see Teal'c, who she had only seen as stoic and stoic-but-amused, smiling and talking easily with her.

She looked around at the environment, amazed. "It looks so much like Earth," she commented.

"I'm not sure what I expected, but this wasn't it," Jennifer agreed.

Hermione glanced over to see if anyone was paying attention to her, which they didn't seem to be. She wandered over to the gate as if she was just examining it further, but slipped her wand out of its place on her belt. "Lumos," she whispered, and smiled to see its tip light up. Good to know that her magic worked off-planet, she supposed. "Nox." She replaced it and wandered back to the others, eager to talk with the Jaffa about themselves.

* * *

"I saw you over by the Chapa'ai." Hermione started as one of the women who greeted them at the gate spoke to her.

"The what?"

"The Stargate, I believe is your word for it. You said something and a stick in your hand began to glow."

"Oh, that." She hadn't actually been briefed by the Ministry over whether or not to talk about magic with aliens. But, these people seemed to be allies, and they weren't coming to Earth any time soon, so she decided it would be harmless to mention. "I'm a witch."

The Jaffa woman raised an eyebrow. "I guess you're familiar with the word?" Hermione asked.

"As an insult, yes."

"Oh. Well, it's just the term we use for a girl who can do magic."

The Jaffa woman looked suspicious. "The Goa'uld often claim mystical powers as evidence of their godhood."

"I'm not a god, I'm just a girl," Hermione laughed. "I was just born with an extra talent. Look." She pulled out her wand and muttered "_Avis._" A couple of twittering white birds flew out of the tip. The woman gasped, as did a young girl who was passing by. Hermione grinned and held out her wand. "It's a bit of wood with something magic inside, see? In this case, a dragon's heartstring. It helps to focus the intent of a spell."

The woman took the wand carefully, as if she was expecting it to explode. She examined it carefully and handed it back. "It does not appear to be anything other than what you say," the woman said reluctantly.

"There's other humans like me where I come from. It's like a whole other world that most people on Earth don't even know about, but it's right there under their noses."

"Why did they send you?" The woman sounded suddenly suspicious.

"They just wanted a representative to meet other civilizations, that's all. Back on Earth, I work with non-human magical species to give them the voice that the Wizarding world denied them for a very long time. So they decided that I would be best suited for meeting possibly non-human people."

"I see." The woman nodded. "I did not realize that anyone other than Taur'i came from your planet."

"Oh, we've got a lot of other intelligent races down there. Like house elves. When I found out about Jaffa, I thought of them. See, they're enslaved to Wizarding families and are bound by magic to obey whatever is asked of them, but a lot of Wizards don't even treat them with any respect. Some of them don't want to be freed, but I'm at least trying to raise awareness that they deserve to be treated as equals in terms of intelligence and ability. Maybe if they feel what it's like to be treated that way, freedom won't seem like such a bad thing."

"That does sound familiar," the woman said wryly. "If you speak truly, then you have my respect."

"I do," Hermione said solemnly. "I wouldn't lie about something like that. I'm a terrible liar, anyway."

"In that case, I consider you a sister. I am Jara."

"Thank you. I'm Hermione Granger."

_This_ was the type of reaction that she always wished she would hear when she told people what she did for a living. And now she was involved in a group of people doing this on a galaxy-wide basis... It really was a dream come true.


	4. Chapter 4

_Sorry this took me so long to post! I swear I thought I'd posted this a long, long, LONG time ago. Special thanks to Deathbrush. And look forward to more of this soon! Also, this has become even more obviously AU than it previously was, seeing as (insert Book 7 spoilers here.)_

_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the Stargate franchise and am not making a profit off of this, nor am I planning to._

**Chapter 4**

_P3X-138_

_One month later_

"Granger, think you can handle it?"

Hermione studied the cave-in critically. She looked for a stone that wouldn't cause the entire blockage to crush them all if it were moved and found one that suited her. _Wingardium leviosa,_ she thought, swishing and flicking her wand at it. She guided it safely away from the team, and then continued the process.

Over the past month, she had become more comfortable with her new job. She loved talking to whatever people they encountered, usually humans that had been previously discovered by other teams. She had fallen into an easy rapport with the rest of SG-19, and was happy to receive weekly letters from Ron and Harry and weekly phone calls from her parents. People had stopped bugging her to prove that she could really do magic.

She was even getting used to going through the Stargate.

The team was still accompanying other teams, mostly because only two of SG-19 was trained to defend itself. Hermione had argued that she was every bit as equipped to defend herself and her teammates with her wand, but she hadn't yet had the opportunity to prove that. While she was still disgruntled over the semantics, she couldn't deny that she was happy to not have been attacked by some Goa'uld's still loyal Jaffa. She suppressed a shudder remembering how she had seen some badly-burned people rushed into the infirmary while she was there on a routine post-mission checkup.

"You all right there, Hermione?" asked Jennifer.

"Just fine, Jen." At the moment, they were trying to gain the trust of the local people by assisting them with a cave-in that had trapped several of their people. The first time they had visited, about two days before, Hermione had inadvertently petrified a suspicious man who had tried to attack SG-19 with some sort of farming implement, and she had been wishing for a chance to make up for it.

She smiled as she saw a space clear up top. "Just a little more and you should be able to climb out. We can help anyone who can't make it themselves," she called.

"Did you see that?" Fletcher asked suddenly.

"See what?" Hermione kept her eye on the current stone to make sure that it didn't hit anyone. She was distracted when she heard the click of Blair and Fletcher's safeties disengage and the rock fell, narrowly missing Blair. She winced. "Sorry."

Blair barely noticed. "Granger, Malcolm—"

Whatever order he was going to give was cut off with the sound of weapons fire. "_Protego!_" she yelled automatically, belatedly remembering that shield charms only worked against other magic. She saw someone poke their head over the top of the cave-in and began to yell for them to stay down when she noticed that the figure seemed to be armed. "_Expelliarmus!_" The man's weapon, which looked remarkably like a zat gun, flew away. "_Stupify!_" As she was stunning the man, she noticed another one replacing him, and another. _"Stupefy! Stupefy!"_

"Granger, use your damn pistol!" yelled Blair. She started to yell back that she'd stick with what she was good at when she heard him grunt.

"Blair!" She looked over for a split second and saw that he had fallen to the ground, twitching a little. She pointed her wand over to _Ennervate_ him. Unfortunately, that split second of inattention made her an open target, and she gave a strangled shriek as she felt something like a much less refined version of the Cruciatus Curse come over her. _Zat,_ she thought before she lost consciousness.

Hermione woke up feeling like a rampaging hippogriff had trampled her. She opened her eyes and groaned, remembering with some distaste the one time she had drank a few too many margaritas and regretted it the morning after. She felt a bit reassured to see that Blair and Jennifer were with her and waking up. Fletcher was still out cold.

"You okay, Granger? Malcolm?"

"I feel like I've been hit by a car," croaked Jennifer.

Hermione nodded mutely, trying to take a mental inventory of herself. "My wand!" she gasped, eyes widening. She proceeded to search for it, but found both it and her pistol missing. _Forget the pistol, without my wand I'm _really _helpless!_

Blair nodded and prodded Fletcher, who appeared to be waking up. "Did you radio SG-14 before they got you?"

"Yeah," he said, grunting. "I didn't get much out other than 'ambush,' though."

"That'll work," Blair said grimly.

Hermione looked around the room they were in. It was bare and looked almost clinical. She staggered to her feet and went to examine the door, which appeared to be very heavy but simply locked. She cursed under her breath and wished for her wand back, since it looked like a mere _Alohomara_ would have had them out in no time.

"Why not just kill us?" asked Jennifer. "Why waste the resources to hold us here?"

"Maybe they want to implant one or all of us with a symbiote," Hermione said glumly. She remembered the mission reports she had read about one Charles Kawalsky, who had died after a Goa'uld hitchhiked back to the SGC in his spinal cord.

"Granger, do you see any Jaffa out there?"

Hermione peered out through the small grate in the door. "No."

"Goa'uld tend to have Jaffa. Maybe these people just don't like us."

Hermione thumped her head against the door. "What I wouldn't give even for Hagrid's stupid pink umbrella right now..."

"What?"

"A teacher from my old school, his wand was broken and so he hid it in an umbrella. The point is, without my wand, I'm next to useless. Unless I can manage some unfocused magic, and that's too unpredictable to rely on." She had explained when they first met that unfocused magic at a time of stress was how most wizards and witches were discovered to have talent, and was still possible in an older witch or wizard, though less likely.

"If they're just human, we might be able to get out of this," Blair said. "Against Jaffa, it's not likely without help."

"And if it's a Goa'uld?" asked Jennifer.

None of them spoke up. It felt a bit better to not have anyone say "We're screwed" out loud.

* * *

_London, England_

_Two hours later_

Harry Potter knocked on the door to the Auror's office. "You wanted to see me, Kingsley?"

"Come in, Potter," said Kingsley Shacklebolt. Harry noticed that Mad-eye Moody and Ron were already here. Ron looked pale and shaken, and Moody looked more dour than usual. "I've already explained the situation to Moody and Weasley here. We're going to America."

Harry blinked. "May I ask why?"

"There's been a situation with Hermione Granger."

"One that requires three current Aurors and one retired one?" asked Harry, feeling like he had been punched in the stomach.

"The Ministry doesn't trust those Muggles to get the job done," interrupted Moody.

Kingsley gave him a warning look and continued. "The Ministry wants to ensure that our people are involved in a rescue mission. Trust isn't the issue, Moody."

Moody snorted, but motioned for Kingsley to continue.

"Hermione's been part of a top-secret program that involves travel to other worlds."

"You're joking."

"I wish. She and her team were ambushed yesterday and so we'll be taking a portkey to Colorado Springs and then Apparating to the Cheyenne Mountain facility in Colorado—"he handed Harry a photograph of the entrance to a mountain, complete with armed guards—"and accompanying them to recover Hermione and the rest of the team."

Harry stared stupidly at the photograph. "She said she was doing research."

"She wasn't technically lying."

"Why don't we just apparate?" Harry's experiences with portkeys had been rather soured ten years earlier.

"Too far to be certain we'd get there in time. Ready?"

Moody muttered something that was probably assent. Harry looked over at Ron, who hadn't said a word so far. Ron was nodding. "Yeah, I suppose," he told Kingsley.

"Good." He motioned to his desk, where what looked like a large empty can of beans was sitting. "Grab on."

Harry hesitated, but put out a hand anyway. He still hated the feeling of being hooked through the stomach and _pulled_, but it passed quickly enough. He was a bit shaky when they came to their destination, though, having not used portkeys unless he absolutely had to. They had arrived in a fairly nondescript bare room, where a tall middle-aged witch was waiting for them. She nodded briskly at them. "Good to see you. It looks like their rescue team will be leaving within the hour, so you're going to have to hurry. Your ministry is taking their sweet time to inform them of your presence, so security will be a problem."

Moody snorted. The woman fixed him with a look. "I'll remind you that it would be a bad idea to antagonize these Muggles. Hopefully your Ministry will get ahold of them before they decide to shoot you. If not... well, you're all accomplished wizards, I'm sure you'll figure something out."

Harry exchanged a look with Ron, who rolled his eyes. Harry's mouth twitched as he tried to keep from grinning. He had been a bit worried about Ron. He and Hermione had become close over the past several years, and Harry figured that the news that she hadn't been able to tell him the truth about what she had been doing, coupled with being captured by _aliens_ of all things, had hit him pretty hard.


	5. Chapter 5

_Author's note: Once again, sorry this is taking so long. Good news is the end is in sight! I'm estimating only two or three more chapters to wrap this up, and I'm working on the next one. I can offer a laundry list of reasons this is taking so long, but... well, there's excuses and there's writing, and I'll be giving you one of the two. Enjoy, and thanks to Lurkz for beta-ing and suchlike!_

_Disclaimer: Stargate: SG-1 and Harry Potter are not mine, nor am I making any money off of this.  
_

**Chapter 5**

_P3X-138_

_Four hours later_

The sound of the door rattling as it unlocked made Hermione jump. None of them had said a word for the past... well, quite some time, and the noise shook her out of her thoughts. Her mind was still churning, trying to think of a way out.

The door scraped open, and two men entered. Hermione found herself relieved that neither of them had the armor or forehead tattoo of a Jaffa. She saw Fletcher's face briefly light up when he realized this too, though he brought his face back to impassiveness within a second.

One of them pointed at Hermione. "You. Witch."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're coming with us," said the other one. "You can either come on your own, or we'll shoot you and drag you out." He held out a zat, and she held up her hands.

"No, I'll go. No need to shoot." She stood up slowly, not wanting to be mistaken for making some sort of escape or attack and shot at. She followed the one who had first spoken to the door, while the one with the zat stood behind her. "Are you going to kill me?" she asked as he closed and locked the door.

The first one rolled his eyes. "If we were going to, we would have killed you hours ago. Do you realize how easy it is to kill someone with a zat'nik'tel?"

She glared, refusing to admit that he had a point. They walked down a few corridors, and she noted that she didn't see any windows. _Are we under ground?_ Finally they came to an ornate door that looked both secure and very out of place.

Inside was an equally ornate-looking throne. And sitting on it was a well-dressed, dark-haired woman. She looked down at Hermione imperiously. "Kneel before your goddess," she said, voice unnaturally low and eyes glowing.

_Uh-oh._

She had heard stories of the Goa'uld ribbon device and had no wish to have her brain fried, so she complied. The woman smiled indulgently. "Good. I am Aslesa, goddess of this world." Hermione barely kept herself from snorting in derision. "You are the one called Hermione Granger?"

"That would be me," she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Aslesa held out an object. "You were seen using this device. How does it work?"

Hermione recognized her wand in Aslesa's hand. _Oh, no. That's what this is about?_ "It's complicated," she said, stuttering and trying to think of a good enough lie.

"Explain now. My time is precious."

"Honestly, I don't know."

Aslesa looked thoughtfully at the wand. "Such a simple looking device. Perhaps taking it apart will reveal its secrets."

_Oh, please don't let her break it. If I can get it back, we can get out of here. Please don't break it!_ She tried to keep the panic from her face and voice. "That would probably be a bad idea. We're much more technologically advanced than your... followers here and we haven't determined how it works." Aslesa stared at her with a dangerously neutral look on her face, and Hermione tried her best to keep eye contact. "I found it somewhere and it worked. I've never taken it apart because I don't know if anyone could get it put back together." She hoped that the Goa'uld would accept this answer. She didn't seem important enough to merit Jaffa of her own. With any luck, she would be stupid as well as unimportant.

Aslesa stared at her long enough that Hermione was beginning to feel uncomfortable. "I'm just a stupid human girl, how am I supposed to know how advanced technology works?" she asked desperately. Under normal circumstances, she would balk at being thought of as "stupid," even by an enemy. However, if it could save her life and that of her teammates...

"If you do not understand it, how do you make it work?"

"I told you, I don't know," she said desperately, "I just think it and it works!"

"Perhaps you would like to demonstrate?" Aslesa said lazily, twirling the wand around in her fingers.

Hermione started to agree, and then caught herself. _No, if I show undue interest she'll know how important it is to me, and then she _will _break it, just to prevent me from getting it back._ Aslesa laughed, as if she picked up on Hermione's thoughts.

"No, foolish girl, I will not give it back to you. Do you take me for a fool?" Her tone was suddenly dangerous.

"N-no, I don't. You were smart enough to capture us."

"Indeed I was." The Goa'uld stretched, catlike. Hermione tried as hard as she could not to roll her eyes. _Why does flattery always work on these kinds of people?_

Still, she wasn't going to argue with a plan that kept her and her team alive and her wand unbroken. "And I'm certain that you can keep us here for as long as you want. And... and I can try and think of anything that I know about how it works."

"I can force you to tell me anything that you know," Aslesa said, tapping her fingers against her throne's armrest. Her point was well taken; Hermione stared wide-eyed at the ribbon device and fought to keep her breathing even. "For the moment, I will be a merciful god and allow you to voluntarily cooperate. But my patience is not infinite. Guards." The two men who had escorted Hermione here stepped forward. "Take her back to her cell. Back to her _expendable_ friends."

Translation: if Hermione didn't satisfactorily explain how the wand worked, she and her friends would be tortured or killed. She'd hoped to leave situations like this behind years ago.

_Stargate Command, Colorado_

Ron had been pacing for several minutes now. It was getting on everyone's nerves.

Moody snapped first. "For God's sake, Weasley, it isn't going to make them let us out any faster. Or give us our wands back."

The American ministry had obviously not contacted Stargate Command quite yet, and their arrival had come as a surprise. Normally it would have been a simple matter of using magic to unlock the door to the holding cell they were in, but after Kingsley had introduced them their wands had been confiscated. It wasn't a surprise; not only was it standard procedure in the wizarding world, but Hermione had been working there for long enough that even if a common guard didn't know what a wand was, they would likely have been told to watch out for people brandishing them.

So they had been escorted to a bare and secure room by some polite but insistent airmen, and were now waiting for release. "This is a waste of time," Ron snapped.

"Ron, think about it. Not only do we _not_ want them shooting us the second we get out of here, but we want them to let us use that device of theirs so that we can actually rescue her. Them." There was the rest of the team to consider as well—not directly mentioned in their orders, but damned if Harry was going to leave them behind. Beside him, Moody snorted and shook his head in what Harry hoped was a fond manner.

Ron stopped pacing, but continued to glare mutinously at the door.

After several more long minutes, the door was opened. Several more armed guards, along with a bald man in a blue uniform, were waiting. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but you have to understand our need for precautions," he said in an accent that sounded straight out of a TV western movie. "The Stargate program is highly classified and we can't allow just anyone in without authorization, no matter who they claim to be."

"We understand perfectly well," said Kingsley.

"I'm General Hammond. I'd prefer if we can continue the introductions on the way to the briefing room." He waited for Moody to get to his feet, and then turned and headed down the hallway. "Your wands are waiting there."

Kingsley introduced them all, and Harry was pleased at how in-stride General Hammond seemed to take them. Aside from the usual outer robes, Harry and Ron could have passed for Muggles. Kingsley and Mad-Eye were another story altogether, especially Mad-Eye. His false eye was swiveling in all directions as they walked, and it was plainly unnerving the accompanying airmen. General Hammond was plainly trying not to stare, but Moody's damaged face was hard _not_ to look at if you weren't used to it, Harry knew from experience. Harry himself couldn't help but sneak glances all around them. For a place that was supposed to be a gateway to alien worlds, it all looked so bare and normal.

General Hammond didn't engage in any small talk during the absurdly long elevator ride (_how_ far were they underground, exactly?) or on their way to the briefing room. Harry appreciated it. The tense silence was bad enough, but empty words would have made things feel much worse. The briefing room wasn't empty when they arrived; four people were already seated at the large conference table. "This is SG-1: Colonel Jack O'Neill, Major Samantha Carter, Dr. Daniel Jackson, and Teal'c. You'll be working together to recover SG-19."

Harry settled himself into a chair and kept an eye on everyone's faces. Neither Moody nor Colonel O'Neill looked to happy about the arrangement. Ron looked like he'd rather be through that device of theirs five minutes ago, and Harry didn't blame him. Major Carter looked more fascinated by their appearance than worried or impatient. Kingsley waited for General Hammond to continue, projecting the same air of competence that he always did. Teal'c was unreadable.

_And me?_ Harry was right there with Ron, wanting to be there and helping Hermione as soon as possible. She and Ron were his two oldest friends, and if anything were to happen to either of them...

But General Hammond was talking again, and he didn't want to miss anything vital. "SG-14 reported that SG-19 had been ambushed while clearing out a cave-in a few miles east of the main village. They only had time to get a radio transmission through, and then there were no further communications. By the time Major Astor and Lieutenant Lewis arrived at the site, there were signs of a struggle but none of either SG-19 or their assailants. Dr. Blasdale and Dr. Clements stayed and questioned some of the villagers, and reported that the area around where SG-19 was ambushed has been 'haunted' for the last fifty years or so."

Colonel O'Neill groaned. "Let me guess: villagers taken, never to be seen again?"

General Hammond nodded grimly.

Mad-Eye glared balefully at the Muggles at the table. "Is this some kind of common occurrence?"

"More common than we'd like," said Dr. Jackson. "I'm not sure what exactly you've been briefed on, but one of our enemies out there is a parasitic alien race called the Goa'uld."

"We received a report shortly before we arrived," said Kingsley.

"Then you know that they like to enslave humans and convince them of their godhood. They tend to take on the names of gods of several pantheons: Greek, Egyptian, Indian, and we've even encountered some taken from Chinese and African folklore. It's entirely possible that a minor Goa'uld could have taken refuge in these mountains and is abducting humans for subjects."

"Like Nirrti," said Major Carter. It had no meaning for Harry.

"Exactly," said Dr. Jackson. He must have noted Harry's confused look (and it must have been him; Ron was still glowering, Moody and Kingsley looked impassive) and added, "She was a rogue Goa'uld who experimented on the population of a planet without their knowledge. She's been dead for about a year now."

"Thanks," muttered Harry.

"In Hindu mythology, Nirrti was the goddess of--"

"It doesn't matter." Colonel O'Neill and Dr. Jackson shared a brief glare, and then O'Neill continued. "The point is, if one of these has SG-19, it's bad."

"It could be even worse than that," Teal'c said. O'Neill groaned. "Remember, Nirrti was obsessed with finding a _hak'taur_--an advanced human to be her new host. If she were to discover Hermione Granger's abilities..."

For a second, nobody moved. Then Ron pushed his chair back and stood. "Right," he said, his voice too loud and very distinctly strained. "Can we be off, then? I'd like to get my girl back before she becomes the host to a killer alien parasite."

"She's his girlfriend?" said O'Neill in shock. "You brought her _boyfriend_ along to rescue her? That's some great objectivity you've got going there, wizards."

Major Carter, Harry, and Kingsley stepped in pretty much simultaneously, while Moody sat back with a cynical little smile on his face.

"Sir, they might do things differently--"

"I assure you, we gave the utmost thought to--"

"Now look, Hermione's my best mate too, and--"

"Excuse me," said Hammond loudly, and the room quieted again. Everyone save Ron sat back down. Ron stood behind his chair, arms folded defiantly. "I do _not_ take it lightly when anything happens to any one of my SG teams. _Any_ one of them. I promised your government--" he nodded to Kingsley-- "that we would involve you in the rescue mission, but you will likewise need to cooperate with us. The information that we've just shared with you may very well save your life, and I would appreciate it if you treated it as such. Is that understood?"

There was a brief chorus of nods.

"Very well. You understand that any enemies you face will not be holding wands and casting spells.

Kingsley nodded and Harry had to keep a good grip on the table to keep from drumming on its surface in impatience. Couldn't they just be off already?

Hammond sighed. "Very well. SG-1, you and the Aurors will be prepped to leave in a half-hour. Good luck."


End file.
